Preview!
by Aza Sira
Summary: This is yes, a preview, or the first chapter to my next fic. I'll be exploring some different themes, so please read tell me what you think! M for violence.


Chapter One: War Is But Destruction.

My chest stung as I leapt over stone and boulder. The hideous spawn of Ungoliant dashed behind me. I knelt behind a large rock and waited. The enormous spider came into view. I waited until it was close and then I struck. The enormous spider's underbelly gave way to my sword the way softened butter gives way to a sharp knife. the creature wailed and hissed. I pulled out my sword with an effort and struck again. Soon the spider was reduced to a gurgling, dying mess on the cliffside. As soon as I was sure that the foul beast would not be rising again, I looked around me. I had been separated from the main battle which now lay before me. Morgoth had decided to make yet another attack upon us. Even with our mithril blades and armor, we were hard put to it. Morgoth continued to send in spiders, Nazgul, and men. Valaruakers might even make an appearance. I suddenly felt a cold dread grip my heart. I whirled around to see a Nazgul descending upon me with its sword outstretched. My own sword chimed with his and remained locked as both of us struggled for the mastery of each other. Finally, it gained on me and jumped back as its sword flashed through the air, cutting me on the neck, where it had intended to hew off my head. Ah, the head of Ainar's princess would be a worthy prize for it to present to its dark master. It came at me again, but I was prepared for the impending stroke. Our swords clashed together again. This time I spun it's out of the way and plunged my sword into its empty hood. It began to scream, a horrible, terrible howling that made me want to let go of my blade and clasp my hands over my ears. It only lasted for three seconds but it felt like much, much longer. After it was reduced to smoking and crumpled heap of cloth and metal, I turned to the sound of galloping horses. Three other Nazgul had come to avenge their fallen comrade. I readied myself as the charged. The lead horseman outstretched his blade and made to skewer me. As it came towards me I leapt out of the way barely in time and sliced the horse's leg off. Both horse and its fell rider crashed to the ground. I immediately thrust my blade into its hood and it howled with a last passionate cry. As soon as it was vanquished, I whirled around to face its fellow, foul companions. They rode together which made my work of defeating them harder. I drew out one of my knifes and threw it squarely into the head off one of the horses. It fell, with its evil rider, but its fellow comrade was upon me. Its sword came down, ready to slice me in half. My dagger resounded against it and slid it away with a fluid motion. I stabbed it in its nonexistent face and destroyed it. I turned in time to partially dodge a slash from the third Nazgul. It's blade grazed my forearm and cut a deep gash. My sword came up to meet his and the two blades resounded against one another. It attempted another strike that I parried away. Then I struck at its sword hilt and the blade was flung away from it. At last I finished it.

After checking to make sure that my wound was not poisoned, I attempted a return to the city, Kemen-menel.

I returned as quickly as I could but as I was nearing a gate that was not flanked by battle, another spider accosted me. The beast was huge and ugly. But the threat of Ungoliant's spawn was that their poison-needles could slip through mithril chain mail. I drew my sword and stood opposing it. It charged with great strength and I leapt out of its way, but turned quickly while my back was turned and tried to stink its needle into my flesh. I rolled on my back only just in time to avoid being poisoned. I hacked off three of its limbs and it shrieked in pain and came after me with even greater hatred, if that was even possible with these fell creatures. They were created for one sole purpose: To kill and eventually be killed. Spraying green blood all over me, it leapt with surprising strength at me. I stabbed it in its underbelly up to my hilt and sliced open the belly. It writhed and died. I made another break for the door, which I could faintly see. Then I heard the rough paws of a wargs coming closer. I turned and saw five wargs with riders running for me. There seemed to be no end to this madness.

The first three raced ahead off the other two who were wounded. They circled me as fast as they could and began their attack. I parried away the first strike and threw my knife into the head of one of the others. It died without even a cry of pain. Another orc tried to slice me in the back and its sword fell on my armor with great force. As the armor was made of mithril, it did not cut me, but the force brought me to my knees. The first orc tried to slice open my face and I leaned back and only got a shallow gash. I stabbed my sword into the orc's stomach and it writhed and died. The other orc wheeled around and stood up and brought his blade in for a thrust. I sidestepped it and parried away another strike of its. Then I hacked its head off and stabbed its warg's head. The other two wargs advanced on me. Wargs are not intelligent creatures and they need time to recover their dull wits if their masters are slain. The first one that wasn't wounded leapt towards me with its jaws wide open. I stabbed my sword its jaw and head. The second warg circled me and then ran towards me. I sidestepped and hacked the fell beast's head off. Not pausing to clean my sword I ran for the gate and wiped the blood out of my eyes.

I continued to run until I was at the gate. I heard a whistling and swiped my head out of the way as a knife thudded into the gate ahead of me. I turned around and saw one of the men in Morgoth's service riding one a horse and pulling another knife to throw. _Whissshh._I dodged again and hid behind a rock and pulled out my own knife. He came into view and threw again. I dodged again. But this time his knife sliced open my cheek. Suddenly I heard a thud and a strangled cry from the man. I got up and saw that he had been shot several times by arrows. I looked to the gate and saw above it a archer who signaled for me to advance. I ran to the gate and it opened. As it closed several orc arrows struck the door. The gatekeeper came down from the ramparts with a concerned look.

"Lady Aella, why didn't sound your horn so that I could attend to this gateway better?" He was obviously ashamed that he hadn't been here to open the gate while I needed cover to get inside.

"As long as you were defending others, Bragol, I have no complaints. After all I am well enough." I tried to say cheerfully. Then I had to wipe blood out of my eyes and my cut stung.I grimaced and that just made it worse. Bragol gave me a glance that said he did not believe me. He bowed and spoke,

"Very well then. Thank you for your patience, my lady. May I suggest a visit with the healers?" He said, finishing ever so slightly smirking. I chuckled and nodded.

I walked through the streets and garnered several stares from small children who, while accustomed to bloody soldiers, were still a bit sacred of my bloody face. My armor, skin, and face was a swirl of red, green, and black. I was certain I looked like hell. I made my way to a healer's station. The first one was an middle-aged man attempting to staunch the flow of blood from what remained of a soldier's leg. A young girl of probably about twelve years was assisting him, although she looked ready to vomit at the grisly sight. I continued, knowing that the man's need was far greater that mine.

The next healer station I came on, had five workers and was larger than the last one. There was room for me squeeze in. I approached one of the young boys, who looked like he was ten at the most.

"Can you attend to these wounds?" I asked him.

He nodded and motioned for me to sit down while he got some clean rags and herbal oils. He first cleaned my face of the my excess blood as well as the orc and spider blood splatters. I winced as the cloth went over my cuts and even more when he cleaned them purifying oil. That stung the most. After my face was cleaned he cleaned the gash on my arm and wrapped in a bandage. He was a soft spoken person.

"The cuts on your face and neck don't need to be bandaged. Just be careful, Lady Aella, when you are next in combat. And keep your hair out of you face. That's all." I stood up.

"Thank you for your assistance."

I then walked out and headed towards where my father was sure to be. The ramparts. The entirety of the walls and their ramparts were filled with soldiers. I went to the heat of the conflict, where my father was sure to be. I had to walk through hurrying soldiers and healers carrying the wounded. Finally, I came to where the battle was hottest. Many orcs and men were shooting at each other, so I ducked low to the ground to avoid being shot. Arrows whizzed to and fro and occasionally my heart would wrench at the sound of an arrow finding its mark. I was almost to where my father was, when a arrow hit the soldier in front of me. He fell with an arrow protruding from his forehead. He probably died painlessly.

I found my father speaking with his commanders.

"Kano Beleg," His deep voice was serious and commanding. "Take your men to the northeastern wall, where they have called for reinforcements."

"At once, my lord." Kano Beleg responded and proceeded to gather his men for battle. My father turned to me and looked surprised.

"Aella, where have you been? The last report I heard of your location was that you had disappeared near the western wall. If I could spare a single man, I would have sent one after you! And you have been wounded!" his face betrayed his grave concern.

"I apologize, father. There was one of our men being accosted by some of Ungoliant's foul spawn and I was able to assist. I deemed it my moral obligation in that situation. But I am here now and my wounds are but starches compared to the wounds of others. Where would you send me next?" I asked.

It was then that the screeching sounded from above. It was far more powerful than average Nazgul screaming. My father and I both hit the floor as a fell dragon bearing and greater Nazgul swept low and carried off several of our soldiers.

"I believe your next assignment just slew several of my men, Aella." My father replied, a grimace on his face.

I nodded and swiftly acquired a dropped bow from one of the soldiers that had been carried off. A quiver was readily available from another soldier. The surrounding area, being a active war zone, was cleared. The dragon and its foul rider swept in again for another kill. This time I was ready. Notching a arrow to my bow, I aimed waiting for the right moment. Then I fired with all my strength. The arrow flew from my bowstring and the dragon swerved out of the way. I fired again and my bow sung true. The arrow pierced the dragon's throat and it tumbled with its rider into some nearby buildings. I raced down the stairs and to the scene of the wreck. The Nazgul rose up to meet me. Its sword was long and sharp. It screeched and ran towards me with its sword raised. Its sword came down as if to slice me in half, but as I anticipated this and was ready, it suddenly changed direction tried to slice my arm off. I just barely dodged its strike and not without injury to my arm and side. While my side wasn't cut it was badly bruised and I fell to my side as the Nazgul's sword came down again. This time it wasn't a feint and out blades clashed together. I swept his to the side with my long knife and trust my sword into its empty hood. The screaming began and it was far, far worse than the other screaming that came from lesser Nazgul and far more powerful. When at last it was reduced to a smoking ruin of metal and black cloth, I turned my attention back to the walls. I rejoined my father on the walls some way away from the wreckage of my enemy's defeat.

My father nodded grimly in my direction as I approached him. He was directing several men to another rampart.

"Well done, Aella. Now you may take your place among the other archers." He commanded me.

I nodded and stood by the other archers as rained down shafts of death to our enemies. Six orcs attempted to climb the wall with picks. I picked the first one off with a arrow to arm. I gnashed my teeth as I was aiming for the head. I fired again, and missed my target. I took a deep breath and shoot again. This time I hit my mark squarely on the orc's head. One of the orcs began to fire back and hit the soldier next to me on the shoulder. She grunted and gave me a look of hate as she went to the healers. I felt horrible, because it was well known that all orc arrows are poisoned. The orc fired again and its arrow hit me in the shoulder, bruising but not cutting. I fired back two shots, the first one missed, the second struck the orc in the stomach. The other orcs were getting close to the wall and I picked off two more with five shots. The final two were shot down by my comrades beside me. They were both far better shots than I was.

We continued this for the rest of the night, until the assault ended and our fell enemy slunk back to their camps.

I made my way through the crush of people through the streets, trying to get to my home, which stood at the top of Kemen-menel. My family was royalty so we got the highest seat in the city. I was weary beyond belief and absolutely did not want to walk several miles to the palace. Thankfully, while I was at a well taking a drink, my brother, Andune, joined me for a drink. He, like me, had been doing battle all day and the day before. Neither of us had slept in three days. His back sagged under the weight of weariness. I was the same. Finally he spoke.

"How many?" both our weary, blood and earth stained faces smirked a little.

"7 spider, 15 orcs, 8 lesser Nazgul, 1 greater Nazgul, and 11 men. That totals to a pretty 41. How many for yourself?" I said proudly and a smile came to my face. It was the way my brother and I stayed sane in this war. A war we had both been born into. Indeed, we were born when the war had reached a height. Counting our fallen enemies was just a way to stay sane.

"18 men, 9 orcs, 10 lesser Nazgul, 28 spiders. Totals to a lovely 54." He grinned, despite his weariness at this triumph. I frowned, then smirked and responded with,

"Well, I heard no count of greater Nazgul, so I suppose we're even." He started to chuckle at our childishness and soon I joined him.

Before long we were both laughing. Only when we were this exhausted could we laugh after a battle. It was just another way to stay sane, to keep despair away. Even so we didn't laugh often.

Soon the streets were less crowded and we returned on our way to the palace. On the way Andune, stopped suddenly as if something had just occurred to him. I glanced back with concern.

"I lost 26 of my soldiers on the eastern wall today." His voice was barely a whisper.

It brought back memories of my own. The man I had rushed out to save had ended up dead even though I had tried to save him. On the walls I couldn't count how many I had seen dead. The man with the arrow in his forehead, the woman who's shoulder had been shot with a orc arrow. She was probably dead now from the poison in the arrow. The others I saw in the streets. None had buried them because in the heat of battle, none had time. The man in the healers station with his mangled leg. He was probably dead too. The poor girl who had to see such a thing. It hadn't done her psyche as good, that was for sure. I became aware of the tears rolling down my face. Even our enemies, some were men too. Did their loved ones weep at the damage we brought into their lives?

All Andune and I wanted was for this war to end.

But we both knew Morgoth had to return to the abyss where rose after millennia of waiting. We both knew that he had influenced the War of the Ring, 200 years ago. He had somehow dulled Sauron's wits so that the One Ring could be destroyed. The gold of the Ring was enchanted to store an enormous amount of power within it. But that power had originally been given to Sauron by Morgoth long ago in the First Age of Middle-Earth. So when the Ring was destroyed, the power returned to Morgoth. It gave him the power to return from the abyss. He found the Silmaril that had been cast into the earth by one of Feanor's sons. He even learned how to take the light of the Silmaril and use it for his own dark purposes. And thus he continues to place in his service the foul spawn of Ungoliant, the great and terrible arachnid that had sucked the Two Trees of Light dry in the First Age near the dawn of time. Her spawn may not be as powerful as she was, but they are still a evil and ancient foe.

Morgoth even began to bring back the dead, a deadly and evil crime, as Nazgul, living ghosts. Some are elves. Some are men. And some are even dwarves.

He also employs orcs, but he does not rely on them as he did before. They are useful as army fodder, but for little else. He has even has Valaraukers in his service. Not many and they seldom show themselves, for they do his work elsewhere. Yet they are his most terrible servants and many of our kin have died at their hands.

Heavy thoughts followed us on our way up the city streets. We were like every other who had been born into such times. We were broken by war. For war in its very nature is to destroy. Whether it is the lives of the fallen and their loved ones or the psyches of those born in war or those who fight it, war destroys them all. I often wondered what it would be like to not be at war.

I could not even imagine it.

All I could imagine was more war and death.

Andune and I reached the palace. It was not guarded. Our nation's view on how royalty was treated was rather different from the rest of the world. We walked up to the gate and opened it. It swung open on silent hinges.

We wearily went to the kitchens, where Gretchen (the cook/housekeeper/maid/palace manager) was sitting in her chair, sleeping. A pot of soup bubbled on the fire. We both stumbled in and selected some bowls and ladled some soup into them. Then we ate. And it was wonderful. The saying "Hunger is the best of sauces" rang true as either of us hadn't eaten in two days. We both had four bowls each and by the end of it, we felt better somewhat. Andune got up and took the bowls to the washtub and dropped them in. Gretchen snored on.

I stumbled up to my own chambers, and took a bath. I had to refill it thrice over to get the grime and filth purged from my skin. Finally I dressed for bed and collapsed in it. I made sure I had my long knife in my hand before I slept. One never knew when the enemy will come. Then the nightmares began.

I dreamed I was being chased by Nazgul. But they had faces. Every time I struck one down their faces twisted in torment. There were hordes of them. For every one I slew, three more took its place. On and on it went. The spawn of Ungoliant came at me next. I tried to fend off the thousands of them, but it was no use. Finally one of them struck me. I felt like I was melting and the hideous laughter of my enemies was all around me. I looked at my hands and saw they were turning to ash and dust. The pain was terrible. Darkness swirled around me and pressed in cutting off my breath. I began to sink disintegrating, into a sea of darkness. And I hit a bottom. Somehow I was still solid. Then I felt a piercing pain. I turned and saw a orc standing behind me. It laughed and clawed my neck open. Other orcs came tried to claw me likewise. I started screaming and woke up screaming. And somebody was shaking me awake. I thought it was an enemy and I drove my knife into its shoulder. But it bounced off and I tried again and again. Finally I wiped my eyes free of tears and looked at who was holding me down. It was Andune. He perceived that I was awake and sat back with a sigh.

"Why are you here?" I asked in a raspy voice.

"You were screaming again." He said. I rose and walked to the long black mirror that stood as a wall to my room. In its reflection I looked withered, pale, and haggard. My hair hug in tangles across my face. I looked like a rabid creature. Andune looked the same.

This had to stop. This whole war. If it didn't, it would consume us all.

There was a knock on the door. Gretchen stepped in and announced,

"Aella, Andune, your father would like to speak with you on some very important issues."

Author's Note:

Ok if you're just a random fan of the movies, you will probably be very confused by what's going on. Basically, it's a hidden nation within Ered Luin, the Blue Mountains. You will also note that I named the villain Morgoth. He's the original master of all evil. Go read the Silmarilion. I also mentioned the Silmaril and Ungoliant. More reasons to read the Silmarilion. Oh, and Valaraukers are balrogs. It's just their high elvish name. and speaking of elvish, Kano means commander or captain. Just so you know. Anyway, I'm going to try and update asap, but no promises.

~ Aza Sira


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